


5 Pt. AU Prompts

by settledownfrohike



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/settledownfrohike/pseuds/settledownfrohike
Summary: Not AU, Missing Scene, Reoccurring Character. Really need to watch both Shapes and Anasazi to understand:)





	1. Lone Gunman Attend Williams Christening

1\. “Jesus Langley,” Byers huffs into the reflection behind him in the mirror. This, of all days, would be the day his tie tying skills would falter. “I said something appropriate.”  
“What? Its a new T-shirt man. And for the record, it’s a picture of God, not Jesus,” he argues, pointing to the illustration of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg. Byers shakes his head in defeat and resumes his battle against the offending garment. Frohike paces nervously, “We’re gonna be late amigos. Vámanos.”

2\. An active role. Active. As in non-passive. As in present. The words play on loop, most of the ceremony having been unfamiliar and ceremonial, foreign to his ears, “Active role” had caused him to look up from his worn loafers, a stark contrast to his fresh-from-the-Macy’s-rack suit. He’d brought the flowers too, his standard offering. Scotch would have been inappropriate, Byers was already bringing a rosary. Active….He wonders if schools even have an AV club anymore. Uncle Melvin? Uncle Fro? He’s shown up in the suit and brought the flowers and made the promises to take the active role. It’s the closest to a marriage vow he’s ever going to make. most likely. The title ‘Uncle’ has lost its jest. He adopts it now the way they have adopted him, with weight and heft and warmth in his chest. Family.

3\. He watches warily as they enter. These miscreants, these ne’er do wells. The handsome do-gooder, the hermit and the rebel. Split Fox Mulder into three caricatures and this is what it would look like. Dana was always fond of the mutts from the pound as a child. She always did bring home the strays. The ones with questionable bloodlines and unwavering loyalty. He’d never admit as much to her, but Bill envies her judge of character. Still, he most likely won’t stick around for dinner.

4\. The women are elbow deep in cooking, Maggie’s house is warm and worn-in and smells of potpourri, fresh bread and some form of rich casserole. William’s new rosary has been passed around and admired. Byers rewarded with a kiss to the cheek and the first opportunity to hold the baby. When he begins to fuss and squirm, though, his expression turns desperate. Scully reaches for a dish towel, sheepishly mentioning that he probably needs to be changed. Langly has been shifty and quiet thus far, so the room goes quiet and eyes owlish when he declares that he’s got it and retrieves the infant and the diaper bag. “What? My sisters got three kids.” He throws William over his shoulder, one-armed and easily, and scurries off whispering to his new buddy, about how his Uncle Kung Fu is the best.

5\. With their earnest manners, eager reception of her cooking and copious compliments, she warms to them almost immediately. His father calls them brothers, and her daughter knows something of that. Dinner is jovial, tales of parenthood woes and and platitudes abound. The room becomes quiet as the weight of full bellies matches significance of the occasion, and thoughts turn contemplative. She takes a moment to appreciate the scene around her before tapping her spoon to the good crystal. Dana looks fearful, suddenly, her beautiful doubting Thomas.  
“Mary Ann Evans once said, “ she begins, “  
What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life – to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories,” she’d planned to say more, but damnable maternal emotion is closing her throat. Some matriarch she turned out to be. She pauses for composure, and raises her glass.  
“To Fox.”  
The table raises their glass.  
“To Mulder,” they echo.


	2. Anonymous asked: AU where mulder gets lung cancer from secondhand smoke; listen i'm tragic i just want something tragic in my life, i'm working thru some shit ok, listen

1\. The words “small cell” are anything but small. They are Goliath, and David is no where to be found. She feels the words rather than hears them. Malignant, it feels like quicksand.

2\. Carcinoma slices through to the quick, an artery, not a vein, she is bleeding out all of the fresh life left within her in a frenzied, gushing rush.

3\. Prognosis. Stunted and ignorant. Crushing her under its clumsy, suffocating weight of formality. What does it know. He is a miracle. And miracles defy logic.

4\. Treatment. A chirpy, condescending, pathetic excuse for hope. It irritates her, infuriates her.

5\. The warmth of his hands, the fire of his fever. The blood on his lips. The stench of vomit. The jagged edge in his cough. These are the sounds of war against surrender. This is the language she knows well. This is her call to battle.


	3. The Shape of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not AU, Missing Scene, Reoccurring Character. Really need to watch both Shapes and Anasazi to understand   
> :)

1\. The Red Rock is with in walking distance, and tonight she doesn’t care, about professionalism, hangovers or otherwise. Loss seems to surround her these days, and she’s seizing an opportunity to drown it all out in fermented grain, bury it in the charred darkness of a barrel. The television next door is keeping him company, and just as well, because tonight she doesn’t feel like she’d be the kind anyone would want to keep.

2 It’s dumb luck, or fate, or cruel coincidence that the bar is empty, save her. Strong cheekbones and an even stronger jawline, her profile is formidable, even clouded by smoke. A cascade of dark water falls down her back, waves lapping at her shoulder blades. It feels rude not to speak, but casual conversation feels even more so, she asks to bum a smoke. She hopes her eyes convey at the very least, camaraderie. They share the silence along with the whiskey, chase it with grief, little fingers grazing at the ash tray, communicating what platitudes cannot.

3\. Losing her father shouldn’t make her feel this alone, but the ones in her life who have understood her best have always challenged her the most, and Mulder isn’t his proxy. She’s trying very hard not to saddle him with that.

4\. The jukebox seems to contain only nostalgic, haunted Willie Nelson, and lyrics of weeping blue eyes barely register enough to feel too personal for comfort before a warm hand covers her own and gently leads her from the barstool to the make shift dance floor. She smells of leather and sage, her breasts are soft against her cheek and the subtle curve of her hip has Scully fighting the urge to cling. It hadn’t occurred to her until this moment how much she has needed to be held. Gwen needs it too, and so she does, returns the gesture, one palm pressed firm against the dip in other woman’s spine, the other cradled against her heart, boots shuffling against heels amongst peanut hulls and tacky remnants of bad decisions. Swept up, she braves a glance upward and is met with the softest of mouths and the taste of licorice. Their tongues slide against each other with unexpected familiarity. “LAST CALL” bellows out in the distance, and her companion breaks away, leaving her dizzy and bereft. The room next door is silent when she returns, alone.

5\. It’d taken 6 months to track her down, she’s going by her middle name now, and that was enough. That was as far as her nerve would allow, an official image on a southwestern government website, being 1/8 Navaho had apparently afforded her a new lease in life, and for that a Scully is grateful. Until an excuse for contact fell into her lap, she had no intentions of ever seeing her again. She isn’t surprised when the newer, still somber woman named Josephine chooses not to recognize her, but she’d brought along her brother’s sharp talisman, just in case.


End file.
